


polyester sweater

by losttheability



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sharing Clothes, Unrequited Love, based on heather by conan gray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25623676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/losttheability/pseuds/losttheability
Summary: “Me in your sweaterYou said it looked betterOn me, than it did youOnly if you knewHow much I liked you”inspired by the song "heather" by conan gray
Relationships: Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Comments: 6
Kudos: 116





	polyester sweater

**Author's Note:**

> i've never written a fic before but i heard this song and immediately thought of moreid and then this happened lol  
> this isn't beta read so any mistakes are my own! i also apologize in advance for the sad unrequited love feels but i hope it hurts in a good way!   
> please feel free to drop a kudos or a comment!! thank you and i hope you enjoy <3

The first thing Spencer notices when he walks into the bullpen is that it’s noticeably colder than it usually is. The air sends a chill through him despite the long sleeve dress shirt and sweater vest he’s wearing today. He takes a long sip out of the coffee he picked up on his way to the office hoping that the warmth of it will help combat the effects of the cool air.

He sits down at his desk and presses the power button for his computer. As he waits for the monitor to finish booting up, he drums his fingers on his desk and takes a look around. He can see Hotch and Rossi already in their offices and the lamp in JJ’s office casts a warm glow through the blinds, so he assumes that she’s already hard at work too. He usually beats Emily and Derek to work so he’s not surprised that he’s the only one in the bullpen at the moment. He basks in the early morning quiet, that within the next hour will be filled with the hustle and bustle of office work and chatter amongst colleagues.

He jumps and then blushes hard when the loud noise of the Windows start-up screen blares out from his monitor’s speakers, startling him from his serene early morning thoughts and disrupting the peaceful quiet. He wishes he could say this wasn’t such a common occurrence, but for all his intelligence and the power of his eidetic memory, he is laughably bad with technology (and is just stubborn enough to continue to refuse any and all assistance from Garcia). Still though, he distinctly remembers completely turning off his volume yesterday after the exact same scene played out the prior morning. Thinking back, he would bet it was Derek who turned his volume back up; He looked much too amused when Spencer nearly jumped out of his seat at the sound yesterday and Derek’s blinding smile and quiet laugh didn’t help to calm his already racing heart. Today, he’s glad he’s the only one in the bullpen and that no one else bore witness to that stunning encore performance.

Spencer smiles to himself, secretly warmed by the fact that Derek seems to be reigniting their prank war. His smile turns into a smirk when he starts thinking of ways to serve some sweet, sweet revenge. As delighted as he is about the playful nature of his and Derek’s friendship, he thinks it only makes it harder to maintain a strictly professional and platonic relationship with the man he’s pretty sure he’s head-over-heels in love with. He’s almost positive that his feelings aren’t returned, but he’s never been the best at reading social cues, especially when it comes to his romantic interests so he foolishly clings to the hope that Derek’s play flirting and nicknames might hold a deeper meaning. He often thinks of what the outcome of revealing his feelings would be, but when he runs the probability of Derek actually returning his feelings, the odds are never in his favor. The math isn’t on his side here and based on what he knows of Derek’s sexual exploits, logic and common sense tell him _keep dreaming_. Yet, he can still hope, can’t he?

Before he can linger on that train of thought for too long, he takes a file from the top of the pile on his desk. He really should be getting a start on his paperwork anyway.

~*~

It’s nearing lunch time and the temperature situation of the office hasn’t improved at all. Spencer has just finished his third cup of coffee, but he’s still barely suppressing shivers and idly wishes he layered on a blazer or a cardigan today.

He gets up from his chair with a small groan and makes his way to the small office kitchen; Derek’s head pops up from his paperwork at the sound. Spencer can feel the dark eyes following his movements and he’s helpless to do anything other than shoot him a small smile as he passes his desk before continuing on his way.

He’s standing at the counter pouring his next cup of the Bureau’s poor excuse for coffee when he hears footsteps walk up behind him and then a warm hand settles on his shoulder.

“Already refueling again, pretty boy?” Derek asks with a smirk. “You must be pretty tired—have a long night?”

Spencer doesn’t know if Derek meant that to sound suggestive or not, but to his ears, it did. “I’m only on my fourth cup,” he says a little defensively. “Plus, I only read four books last night before falling asleep, so I was actually able to get in a full eight hours for once! It’s just that the coffee is warm and it’s a little cold in the office today, don’t you think?”

One look at Derek and what’s he’s wearing would lead Spencer to conclude that _yes, he would agree_. He’s wearing a navy-blue hoodie with the sleeves scrunched up, leaving his forearms exposed. It’s not typical Derek Morgan office-wear, not like the Henleys that cling to his biceps like a second skin that cause all the women in the office — and Spencer himself if he’s being honest — to give him long, lingering looks. It’s obvious that Spencer is not alone in needing an additional layer to keep him comfortable today.

“Yeah, but I’ve been wearing this thing,” Derek says while pinching the fabric of the sweater between his fingers and pulling before letting the material flop back against his chest, “all day and let me tell you: there is no happy medium here, kid. It’s startin’ to get too hot to handle wearing this sweater. As a matter of fact...” he trails off while giving Spencer an appraising look.

Before Spencer can figure out what that look is supposed to mean, Derek is sliding his arms out of the sleeves and pulling the hoodie over his head. The motion causes the shirt Derek is wearing beneath the hoodie to rise up, giving Spencer a tantalizing glimpse at his lower stomach and the taut, defined muscles of his abdomen.

Too busy sneaking glances at Derek, he’s caught off guard when something soft and warm hits him right in the face. He grabs it as it falls and hears Derek say, “I’m feeling fine for right now, but you? You look like you need it way more than me — you’re shakin like a leaf, kid.”

Spencer looks up at Derek, back down to the hoodie in his hands, and then back up again at Derek. “I can’t take this! What if you get cold again? Really, I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“No, really, I _want_ you to take it. We can’t have that big brain of yours freezing up, now can we?”

“Well, if you’re sure…” Spencer says hesitantly. As he pulls the sweater over his head he breathes in and is pleased to find that the smell of Derek’s cologne is still clinging to the fabric. He doesn’t know if it’s the cologne itself or the fact that he’s come to associate the scent with Derek, but it just smells _so good_. It puts a faint smile on his face that lingers as he pops his head through the top and feels the hood settle on top of his unruly curls.

Derek reaches out a hand and tugs on one of the hoodie strings. “Hey, look at that! Looks even better on you than it did on me, pretty boy,” Derek says with a wink and a grin.

He’s rendered nearly speechless with that sly, playful smile directed at him. It’s a miracle he’s even able to mumble out a thank you. He can feel it’s accompanied by a blush that by the burning in his cheeks, he doesn’t need a mirror to check is a deep red. Derek is still smiling at him as Spencer turns on his heel and makes his way back to his desk before he can do something irrevocably stupid, like blurt out his undying love for the other man.

~*~

He’s been absorbed in case files for the past few hours and has felt pleasantly warm the entire time. The material is soft and pleasant to the touch; he thinks it may be polyester, but he’s never been well-versed in fashion and he would feel ridiculous contorting his body in order to look back at the tag attached right below the neckline. The sleeves are a tad bit too long and only his fingers peek out as he types away on keyboard. He wishes he could steal the sweater away and take it home to curl up in on his couch as he reads the next book in the Russian series Emily suggested to him.

He’s riding a high being sat snuggled up in Derek’s sweater—that is until he hears Derek’s laugh and he’s suddenly now way more interested in the phone conversation Derek’s been having for the past twelve and a half minutes; one that he is now starting to suspect is not a work call.

“Well, don’t miss me too much, I’ll be finishing up here and headed home soon…mhmm yeah…I love you too, Sav.” Derek says the last part almost too quietly for Spencer to hear, but there’s a small, genuine, happy smile on his face.

Spencer feels like his entire world just came crashing down around him.

Derek is in a _relationship_.

Derek is in _love_.

~~Just not with Spencer.~~

Realistically, he knew his chances with Derek were always impossibly slim, but the probability has never been _zero_. A chill runs through him and Derek’s sweater is no longer enough to keep him warm. This new information threatens to eat him alive and he knows he can’t be here, still within view of Derek, to have his emotional breakdown over this. He gathers his things, sliding files into his leather satchel, before taking off the hoodie and folding it in half. He takes a deep breath and tries to wipe any hint of emotion off his face, then approaches Derek’s desk.

“I’m going to head out, but, uh, thanks again for the loan,” he says with a tight smile as he hands Morgan’s hoodie back to him. Their hands brush for a second and he’s feeling more than ready to escape this nightmare and the increasingly tight feeling in his chest.

“Anytime, pretty boy. What’s mine is yours,” Derek says, shooting him another smile. Now, burdened with the knowledge that his love is most definitely unrequited, it just hurts to look at him. He needs to get out of here _right fucking now_ before he does something embarrassing, like start crying in front of the other man. He high tails it out of the bullpen and pushes through the glass doors.

He doesn’t breathe until he’s safely in the elevator, the doors clacking shut in front of him forming a barrier between him and any prying eyes that could bear witness to his moment of weakness. He releases his breath in one big exhale and feels himself physically slump from the weight of it. He may be Morgan’s pretty boy, but he’ll never be pretty enough (and he’ll definitely never be packing the right parts) for his affections to be returned. The elevator doors ding open and he walks his way out of the lobby and onto the city sidewalk. He catches the train and heads back to his cold and empty apartment to spend the night alone. Just like he always does.


End file.
